This Is Not Forever, Just Always
by Geniusgirl The Original
Summary: This thing they have isn't meant to last forever. It's just always there. Puck, Rachel and the inescapable attraction between them, slushies or not.
1. Chapter 1

**Basic Disclaimers:**

**1.** I don't own Glee.

**2.** I don't own "American Woman" by The Guess Who.

**3.** This is my first foray into Glee fiction. I'm still getting a feel for the characters so excuse me, please, if they're a bit off.

**4**. This is the first time in a long time that I've written any kind of fanfiction at all. Wish me luck.

**Warnings: **Youth, innocence and lots of glossing over important things.

**This Is Not Forever, Just Always**  
_I don't wanna see your face no more / I got more important things to do / Than spend my time growin' old with you_

The first time Puck asked Rachel out, it was the summer before they started high school.

It began with him getting his first official (paystubs and everything) summer job. He worked at the JCC as a junior lifeguard—well, _the_ junior lifeguard, actually, because they only needed one. It wasn't a bad job; he didn't even really have to do much. For the most part, it meant getting paid to hang around the JCC's _awesome _pool with some of his almost-friends. (He had known Jacob Ben-Israel _all_ his life but the guy was still a total creeper.)

Lima's Jewish kids were never really close to each other; there were very few of them to begin with and then they almost all went to different schools. A total of about twelve teens and tweens frequented the pool. Six of them were at varying levels of high school: the senior lifeguard had just graduated from the private academy a couple of miles out of town, the Katz twin girls had just finished their junior year at McKinley, and the other three were a couple (like, legit dating and parent-pleasing) of Carmel sophomores and the guy's freshman brother. Puck and Jacob were the only two transitioning between middle and high school. The other kids were from West Lima Middle. The group got on well enough but Puck only really talked with the senior lifeguard, Zach, who had always treated him a bit like a little brother.

Then, one day, she just _appeared_.

Puck stopped mid-sentence because she was wearing the tiniest white skirt he had _ever_ seen and her legs went on _forever_. He stared, slack-jawed, as she settled her stuff on a free deckchair and reached for the hem of her t-shirt. Zach whacked him in the shoulder just as she started to pull it upward.

Zach's smirk was smug and knowing. "Close your mouth, Puckerman. You're drooling."

Puck scowled but still swiped the back of his hand across his face. "Shut up."

Zach stayed silent and leaned back to survey the new girl with vague interest. Puck turned back around and found he had been spared having to watch her strip. Not that it helped any because she was down to a sunshine yellow one-piece with some interestingly positioned ribbons and slits. As he watched her chat with the Katz twins, Puck realized she was actually really short but the whole petite thing? Totally did it for him. And the top half of the package wasn't lacking either. She wasn't Pamela Anderson but there was something to be said for proportion. He had just started thinking about his introduction when Zach piped up behind him.

"Hey, Rachel!"

The new girl spun around and _beamed_ at Zach. Puck was startled by the reaction. The unexpected prettiness of the smile was also surprising. Puck had spotted the very Jewish nose even before the legs and had been prepared to deal with an average face for the smokin' bod. Apparently that wouldn't be the case at all.

"Zach! I didn't know you would be here. Have you always worked here? I thought you would have left for Eastman by now. When are you leaving for college? Are you in town much longer?"

She impressed Puck with the sheer number of words she'd managed in a single breath. Zach, on the other hand, didn't seem surprised by her amazing capacity for speech. Puck eyed the senior lifeguard wondering how these two knew each other. She was a little young for Zach, wasn't she? She must be in, like, seventh grade or something. It then occurred to Puck, oh my god, what if she _was_ still in middle school? Or was some seriously developed elementary school kid? Then he figured Zach would've said something if he was perving on a kid so she _must_ be around Puck's age. _Please God._

"Slow down, Rach," Zach smiled at her the way he sometimes smiled at Puck when he thought Puck was being 'young'. "I'm working here for most of the summer. I don't leave 'til August. What're you doing here?"

She looked a little annoyed at the question. "Dance classes have closed for summer. Well, actually, my dance instructor told my dads that she didn't want to see me over the holidays. She thinks I need to take break. My vocal coach said the same thing. They said I should take time and _prepare for high school_." Puck literally heard the quotation marks—and, they were the same age; _thank you, God!_ She continued, "I'm prepared for _high school_, Zach. I need them to help me prepare for the _rest of my life!_ I'm never going to make it to Broadway if all my tutors and mentors are this lackadaisical! And, as if that wasn't bad _enough_, my piano's all out of tune!"

"There's a piano upstairs."

Both turned to look at him and that's when Puck realized he had spoken out loud. Puck shifted his weight indifferently as Rachel simply blinked at him. Zach looked between the two then said, "Puck, this is Rachel Berry. She goes to the academy with me. Rachel, this is Noah Puckerman, our junior lifeguard."

They've met before, of course. It doesn't matter. This was where they _met_.

Rachel stuck out her hand toward him. He looked from it to her face. She was smiling a megawatt smile (different from the smile she gave Zach, less genuine). She said, "Hi, I'm Rachel Berry."

Puck had manners and he knew an opportunity when he saw one so he shook her hand. He fixed his best smirk on his face. "Hi. You can call me Puck."

He didn't expect her to ask, "Why?"

Lacking an answer, he just shrugged. The action made him aware of the fact that they were still touching so he loosened his grip on her hand and they fell apart inelegantly.

She brushed imaginary dust off her leg and mumbled, "Nice to meet you, Noah."

Then things were just plain awkward. This was not the way Puck had envisioned this all playing out. He mentally cursed Zach for jumping the gun and forcing him into a conversation with this girl before he had anything planned. Seriously, he had just been planning to put actual _effort_ into this and now everything was rolling downhill very quickly. The silence stretched out, Puck had just reached the most fervent part of his mental cursing, and Rachel had just started chewing on her bottom lip (Puck stopped cursing to notice the lips—then promptly started again, more viciously, because Zach had ruined something that clearly would have been _amazing_) when Zach spoke again.

"Puck is right, Rachel, there is a piano upstairs. In fact, I think we've got a little bit of an unofficial music room going on up there," he gestured generally in the direction of the building's upper windows, "I've used their drums once or twice myself and the instruments are quality. There aren't any mics or a stage but the acoustics are pretty good. If you want, if you can hang around, I'll come up and jam with you after we close up here."

And she was beaming again. Puck was beginning to feel like a sign post just standing there while they talked so he turned on his heel and was about to walk over to some of the guys by the water fountain when Zach called out, "You'll come too, right, Puck?"

Puck turned back and glanced at Rachel. _Don't look desperate._ He shrugged. "If you guys want me to."

"Sure you should," Zach replied. Then he turned to Rachel and explained in a secretive tone, "Puck plays guitar. He's really good at it."

Rachel looked at Puck with a new sort of interest. Finally, she said, "If you say so, Zach, I trust your judgement."

That afternoon, the three of them found the music room and played until Rachel's dads (Puck knew there was a catch; _two_ fathers) picked her up. Zach and Puck left together after double checking the pool area. The ride to Puck's house (Zach had promised Mrs. Puckerman he would make sure her son got home safe everyday), was mostly silent as the younger boy sat stunned by the girl's voice. He hadn't expected so much voice from so little girl. When she had sung with Zach—songs they were obviously practiced at—Puck had been amazed by the both of them. He could sing but not like them.

Finally, he asked the question burning in his brain all afternoon: "So how come you and Rachel know each other so well? I get that you guys go to the same school and all but she's my age. Isn't it, like, weird for you guys to hang out?"

"She's in Glee," Zach said like that explained everything. When Puck asked what the hell that even meant, Zach laughed.

He explained the academy's music program, show choir, and the way the middle school and high school Glee clubs met twice a month to practice and perform. Puck looked totally unimpressed by the idea of show choir; here he thought Zach was cool. Zach just shrugged it off; accustomed, it seemed, to being looked at as a Gleek. He let Puck know he wasn't just _in_ show choir, he was the _lead._ And, as the lead, he'd gotten himself a full ride to the Eastman School of Music in New York. Puck had never heard of it (had never really thought about college except to know that his mother insisted he go to one) so Zach's announcement doesn't have quite the desired effect.

"When you're buying my album, Puckerman, you'll regret this conversation," Zach joked.

The jam sessions with Zach and Rachel became a staple over the next few weeks. They spent so much extra time hanging around together that Zach eventually became responsible for getting both younger teens home. As the rabbi's son and all-round upstanding guy, Zach had parents he didn't even know trusting him so they got to stay and play late into the afternoons. During this time, Puck discovered that Rachel was a talker. He could have sworn it was her job how much she did it. Her mouth never took a break. If it wasn't talking, it was singing, and while he sort of (really) liked the sound of her voice, sometimes it was just too much. Some days, Puck just wanted some quiet after his music. One day he told her so. It should have gone really, really badly. It hadn't.

On their way to Rachel's house, Zach stopped at the 7-11 for gas, snacks and slushies (also staples in their afternoon routine). Rachel and Puck had decided to wait in the truck because Zach knew what they preferred and the ten foot walk from the cool inside of the truck to the mart was entirely unappealing to both. Puck was sitting shotgun with his head back and eyes closed, half-listening to Rachel explain why she wasn't going to back to the academy for high school. She was weighing her options—McKinley or Carmel? Puck figured she would choose Carmel because it was obvious even to him that they were the better school. He didn't even know why she was considering McKinley. If it wasn't for the stupid zoning, Puck would choose to go to Carmel too. Their football team was actually worth something.

"How do you even have a choice?" Puck asked as he watched some guys that had pulled up in a Lexus SUV greet Zach in the store. "Isn't your school zone fixed? I'm stuck with McKinley, which blows because Carmel's football team is _kickass_."

Rachel, who was in the back leaning forward with her arms folded on top of the bench seat in front, turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were wide and curious and _damn_, she was pretty.

"You play football?" she asked. With how much Rachel talked about herself, Puck wasn't all that surprised to realize she didn't know much about him at all.

"Yeah, and basketball and baseball," he supplied. "I run track too."

There was an odd (but still so pretty) smile blooming on her face. "You're an athlete," she whispered.

It wasn't the first time (not by a long shot) that Puck had tried to impress a girl with sports but it was the first time one had ever sounded so genuinely impressed.

"And you swim." Puck hadn't even counted that. "And you play guitar and piano," Rachel added like those had anything to do with sports. "What else do you do, Noah?"

Puck shrugged, not quite sure how to react to the hint of awe and loads of approval in her voice. There was one more thing he did that he was secretly proud of but he really didn't want people knowing. Advanced Math was the epitome of nerd. He thought about telling her, considered that she might make fun of him for it, and then remembered that he was talking to a girl who saw _Glee club_ as the pathway to fame and popularity. She was still waiting for him to answer her, and the silence was nice so he just shrugged it off.

"Not much. I'm pretty good at Math," he conceded finally. That was all she needed to know. According to his teacher, he could write the SATs tomorrow and score full marks in Math. He had all his high school Math credits already so he didn't even have to take any Math classes the next year if he didn't want to. He decided he would figure out how to use that to his advantage in high school later.

Rachel didn't say anything for a while after that but he could feel her eyes on the side of his face even with his eyes closed. He tried not to smirk because, _hello_, the girl was a goner now. They sat in the silence, the only sound in the truck that of their steady breathing. When he felt her shift, the last thing he expected was her to start chattering excitedly about his future and college scholarships. He tried to listen as he usually did but he couldn't. The unexpected quiet they had enjoyed just moments before was sorely missed. He had liked just listening to Rachel breathe. (In his head he understood exactly how freaky this sounded so it stayed firmly _in his head_.)

"Rachel," he started. She talked over him, something about Ivy League schools and how her Daddy used to play football in college so maybe he knew what school would be best for Noah to look at, so he tried again. She kept going and, ok, it irritated him a bit because he'd spent the past few weeks listening to her. The least she could do was acknowledge that he had even said something.

"Rachel!" he snapped. "Can you just shut up for a minute?"

Her teeth clicked how quickly she closed her mouth. It was harsh. He knew it even as he was saying the words. Instantly, Rachel turned her head away from him. Puck wasn't stupid; he had a little sister, he knew what came next. Instead of waiting for some sign that she was crying—God, what was wrong with him; a minute ago he had been_ in_ there—he started apologizing.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean 'shut up' I just meant can we not talk for a while? I like the quiet." No response. "Shit. I'm _sorry_, ok? Talk if you want to."

Finally, she sniffed. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder—her skin was smoother than anything he had ever felt. "Rach?"

She turned toward him, eyes glassy but tears unshed. "I'm sorry, Noah, I know I can be...garrulous and abrasive. I just wanted to get to know you better."

"'S not your fault." He didn't move his hand off of her and his fingers started playing with the ends of her hair.

She smiled at him shakily then she started _talking_ again. Puck couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile. "I understand that you like the silence, Noah, but there's nothing to do but think. I do quite enough of that when I'm alone at home so I like conversation. It's a dying art, you know."

She paused for dramatic effect or something, Puck wasn't sure. Nonetheless, it gave him an opening and he'd been after this for _weeks_. It was difficult trying to win a girl under the constant watch. Zach was Puck's best friend apart from Finn Hudson but his presence was more of a hindrance than his introduction was a help. This was the first time Puck and Rachel had been alone for more than five minutes. If Puck didn't make a move now, he wasn't worth his salt. He shifted closer to her and whispered, "There's other things to do in silence."

Her eyes looked huge when he was that close and he could smell her shampoo. Her voice was nervous but she didn't pull away. "Like what?" she asked.

Puck was certain she knew what he was going to do—Rachel was smart; innocent but not naive. He smirked at her, licked his lips, watched as she licked hers, then he leaned in.

"Like this," he breathed. Then he kissed her. (Softly, gently, sipping at her lips; keeping his tongue to himself—for the most part.)

She kissed him back. (Ineptly but passionately; she was going to have the full experience and Noah being her first just made it...amazing.)

Zach cleared his throat loudly. (He'd known this was coming from day one. _Kids._)

They sprung apart. Puck wanted to throttle the significantly taller teen and Rachel looked like she was attempting to be an actual strawberry. Zach couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions. He handed out his goodies and pretended to ignore the uncomfortable air in the truck. Rachel literally sprinted from the vehicle when they got to her house. The boys had just settled in for the drive to Puck's place when Zach glanced over at Puck, whose expression was distinctly annoyed. There was no resisting the temptation to tease him.

"You know, Puckerman, next time you wanna make out with Rach, you could maybe warn me that you're gonna use the truck."

It took three days of them dancing around each other for Puck to realize that Rachel Berry might have let him kiss her in Zach's truck but that was all he was going to get to do without _saying_ something. He figured he should have known she would want words and, for the first time since Puck had started kissing girls, he was going to make the effort. It wasn't that he didn't have other options—Puck_ always_ had other options—it was just that he only seemed to want Rachel. It was new and strange but he was badass enough to give it a go.

Because Zach's estimated date of departure was drawing nearer, Puck found it much easier to get Rachel alone. The older teen may or may not have been giving them some space to sort things out by being on his cell phone all the time, Puck wasn't going to ask. He waited until he heard Zach head down the corridor away from their music room before he put his guitar down and crossed the room. Rachel, of course, was entirely too engrossed in her sheet music to notice.

Puck walked over and dropped beside her onto the piano stool. He heard her suck in a breath but her eyes never moved from her papers. It occurred to him that she might not have been as distracted as he thought. He exhaled loudly and started, "So, about that kiss..."

Nothing but Rachel's eyes moved toward him. That was no good. He leaned in so she could feel him breathing against her skin, "Wanna do it again?"

This time, she turned her whole head to look at him and he grinned winningly. She rolled her eyes but he could see smile forming. Before she could say whatever it was she had been gearing up to say, he kissed her again. There was nothing shy or soft about this one. Puck knew how to kiss and he intended to kiss Rachel's luscious mouth for all he was worth.

According to the clock above the door, he spent a good eight minutes doing just that until, eventually, he pulled back. His mind had blanked for a little bit—too much Rachel and too little oxygen—but he finally remember there was something else he'd been planning to do today.

He quickly asked her, "You wanna catch a movie this weekend?"

Puck wasn't afraid of rejection but he was slightly terrified that she would see through his plot. Dark theatres, dark corners and no parental supervision meant endless possibilities.

She bit her lip, glanced away and then..."Sure."

_See?_ _No worries._

* * *

It ends two weeks before school starts.

She chooses McKinley over Carmel and wants him to join Glee with her. He would rather shoot himself in the balls with a nail gun. He's pretty confident he's going to make it onto the football team (he does) and he's pretty sure Glee is the bottom of the high school food chain (it is). She can't be persuaded to try out for the Cheerios (he has no idea why not) and finally she comes out and says that she can't be with someone who isn't brave enough to step outside of his box (he has no idea what that means in this context).

They break up. They're both too stubborn to compromise and too young (too smart) to think it was forever.

It would have been forgotten, it would have been fine, if that was The End.

Two weeks into their first semester, Puck throws a slushie at her. She's been pegged by the seniors on the football team and the dare is a part of his initiation process. As he approaches her, cup in hand, he builds up the nerve by reminding himself over and over she didn't want him. He tosses coloured ice in her face and watches the whole school laugh at her. He feels a sick sort of accomplishment. So what if she didn't want him? No one will want her now. He's made sure of it.

Over the course of the next year, he slushies her _at least_ once a week. She never asks why and he never stops to explain. Nothing is fine and nothing is forgotten.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Basic Disclaimers:**

******1.** I don't own Glee.

******2.** I don't own "Percussion Gun" by White Rabbits.

******3.** I haven't been a teenager in four years. I've never been a teenaged boy. I've known many and live with two but this is only an approximation.

**Warnings: **Teenaged boys. Miscommunication, osculation, masturbation. Puck drowns in an Egyptian river. Spoilers for season 01, episode 01.

Please note the **rating change**. We've made it up to ******M.**

**This Is Not Forever, Just Always**  
_It's been a while / So I'll just beg, borrow / And steal all your time_

The second time Puck asks Rachel out, it's the summer before his life goes to shit. And she refuses. Puck blames Zach because she doesn't know who Finn is yet.

They haven't spoken to each other for nearly a year. Apart from the slushies, interaction between them has gone from _as much as possible, everyday_, to _as little as possible, as rarely as possible_. Rachel regrets telling Noah her schedule before they started school because this means he knows exactly where she's supposed to be all day and he uses this knowledge to his benefit. She's had so much ice thrown in her face this year; she thinks she might never ever feel the need for Botox.

As for Puck, he's gotten over the guilt of dousing his ex daily (and making her sick that one time it rained and he got her just after the final bell). She's a total outcast and while he understands his role in making her what she is, he also understands why the rest of WMHS cannot stand her. It's _beyond_ freaky, he thinks, because she wasn't like that when they dated. Sure, she had been crazy determined and full of more four-syllable words than his biology textbook, but she had been _fun_. He would worry about her if she wasn't so obviously asking for all the shit people put her through.

As the year winds down, Rachel readies herself for a busy summer. She has managed to convince both her vocal and dance instructors that the three weeks she and her fathers are planning to spend visiting relatives and theatres in New York is enough time off for her this year. She's very excited about seeing the Big Apple. The Berry family goes away every summer and Rachel always wants to go to Broadway but her fathers insist on variety. Last year, before she met Noah, she had spent a fortnight in Spain. This summer promises so much for her. So when she gets back and discovers two letters informing her that the Lima Centre for the Performing Arts is closed until September for repairs, there are no words (and definitely there is no song) to fully express her tumultuous emotions.

Puck's summer is no less adventurous, although in a _very _different way. He starts his pool cleaning business early and the cougars... well, he spends the first half of June wary of them and then he gets it and he _revels_. He goes from being just one the guys with experience to being the number one stud (and, ok, he actually only sleeps with three cougars—the others will look and tease but they're not stupid enough to touch; he's just barely turned sixteen and they know it.) The rest of his summer is spent between the baseball field, the JCC (he's gotten the lifeguard gig again but now he does what Zach did and one of the kids from East Lima Middle has his old job), and helping his mom around the house.

It's on one of the days when Puck has just finished up with baseball and isn't expected anywhere for the rest of the afternoon that a familiar black pick-up pulls up to the 7-11 where he and some of the guys from the baseball team are hanging out. Puck is actually drinking his slushie when he spots the truck. At first, he thinks he's mixed up because seriously, the dude got_ out_, what would he be doing back in Lima? Then, as the vehicle pulls closer, Puck realizes that it really is Zach's truck. It stops directly in front of the group. Puck doesn't remember the tint being so dark but who knows what Zach's done to it over the course of a year? The passenger side window rolls down.

"Holy shit, Puckerman. What the fuck happened to your hair?"

After they've done the whole how-was-college thing, it seems like they're just driving aimlessly around Lima. Then, Zach starts making a number of turns too familiar to Puck. _Shit._ Puck might be completely unrepentant about what he does to Rachel at school but this—in Zach's presence, in Zach's truck, in the midst of summer—reminds him of too many things he's made himself forget. Puck tries distraction. He asks, "Hey, dude, aren't you hungry?"

College has not been good for Zach—it's totally lengthened his attention span. He answers, "Sure. We'll grab a bite as soon as we pick up your girl."

That was a fucking _low_ blow, Puck thinks. But he doesn't bother with the twisting in his gut, just decides to come out and tell Zach the truth. Puck's a lot of things, not all of them virtuous, but he's never been a liar. He runs his hand over his 'hawk and figures that they have five minutes before they get to Rachel's house.

"Look man, Berry and I broke up. Like, a year ago."

Zach _laughs_. What the fuck?

"What did you do?"

Now Puck finds that just a little bit offensive. He counters, "Who said it was _my_ fault? I'm not the fucking crazy one in this relationship!"

By the time he realizes what he's said; Zach is looking at him with one eyebrow arched. Puck doesn't need him to say the words to get the message.

"Dude, it's_ over_. It's _been_ over for a _year_. Can we just get some fucking food now?"

They drive past Rachel's house without stopping. Puck pretends not to stare at the figure watering plants on the front porch as they pass by and Zach pretends not to notice.

It turns out that avoiding Rachel while hanging out with Zach is downright impossible. A week after Zach's unexpected return to Lima, the two of them are hanging around the JCC pool again when she comes in. She glances across at Zach with a smile and Puck watches her expression harden when she sees him standing next to her old schoolmate. It doesn't bother him at all because she should know she isn't welcome in his circle.

"Oi, Rach! Get over here!" Zach calls out.

Puck scowls outright. _Someone_ (he glared hard at Zach's smiling face) needed to get the memo about ...whatever this was. They didn't hang out. They didn't even _speak_ to each other anymore. Puck would walk away if he was absolutely certain it wouldn't make him look like a total wuss. He settles for sneering at his ex as she makes her way daintily toward them. (_Jesus_, where does she buy those swimsuits? Puck doesn't know anyone else who owns one-pieces sexier than bikinis.)

"Good afternoon, Zach. How're you today?" she asks, completely ignoring Puck's presence.

_Two can play at that game._ Puck smirks in the general direction of the Katz twins (never been there, probably never gonna do that, because he doesn't fuck with the Jews in Lima—have you met his mother? She'd have his balls on a platter in Temple before he even knew they were missing) and acts like he isn't listening to her complain about the Arts Centre closing for renovations.

Zach is telling her about life at music school. She's captivated and Puck is actually pretty interested too. He's been putting more effort into his guitar playing—chicks dig that kind of thing and it's a fact that rock stars get more action than even they know what to do with—so maybe that's an option he'll keep open. It's not as awkward as it could be so long as Noah and Rachel don't ever interact with each other directly. Then, everything changes.

Zach makes a comment (maybe it's a little bit inappropriate given the fact that he's known Rachel since she was three and he was seven) about how Rachel must be the envy of all the girls in school now that she's looking all grown-up and Puck almost scoffs but winds up mostly choking on air when he turns his head. Looking over at them, there's no way he can miss the appreciative sweep of Zach's eyes up Rachel's legs and alarm bells start blaring inside his head.

First of all, let there be no question about it, Puck _trusts_ Zach implicitly. Zach is his boy, or perhaps, it's better to say that he's been Zach's boy for as long as he can remember. Whatever way you word it, Puck could never think badly of Zach. _Ever._ But then there's also something about Rachel that makes Puck do stupid shit he can't explain. Like, throw slushies at her almost every day but beat the blood out of anyone else who tries to do anything else to mess with her. (It happened once last February. A senior, Brian DeVries, had walked into the locker room and explained in detail his little plot to land Berry in the school pool and then strand her outside in the middle of winter and Puck had just launched himself at the other player. It had taken Matt and Finn to pry him off. Mike had been the one to explain that no one played with Puck's toys without his permission and left it at that.)

When Rachel _blushes and giggles_, Puck doesn't even think twice about what he's doing. He shoves his binoculars into Zach's bare chest and gets up. Passing by Rachel, he snags her wrist and hauls her along behind him around the corner leading to the bathrooms. She follows easily until they turn the corner then catches herself and digs her heels in.

"Noah!" she shouts. For such a little girl, she's surprisingly hard to drag when she doesn't want to be dragged. "Noah, stop!"

He figures where they are is private enough so he stops abruptly, lets her stumble into him and turns to face her. "You're a sick, _sick_ girl, Rachel."

Her face _crumples._ Puck really wants to know what that's about. What did she expect him to say? (He knows what she expected and he wasn't going to say it. It isn't true. It _isn't_.) He watches her pull herself together, tears glistening in her eyes but never falling.

"I don't have anything to say to you," she says, "and I definitely don't have to stand here and listen to you. Excuse me."

She tries to push past him but he stops her again, his hand firm on her arm. "He's four years older than us. We've known him since we were kids. You can't date him. It's _illegal_."

Hypocrisy: It's a talent.

"It's _none of your business_," she replies. Her voice has lost the waver it had moments before. With angry determination, she shoulders her way past him and he lets her this time. When he gets back to Zach, Rachel and all her things have disappeared from the pool.

Not a whole week later, Puck is headed in the general direction of the old music room where they spent most of last summer with a huge box of crap for the storage closet at the end of the hall when he hears a couple of notes being plucked on the piano followed by a familiar laugh. He doesn't make a conscious decision to eavesdrop, he just stops before the doorframe and stares at the reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall.

Rachel and Zach are sharing the piano stool, side pressed against side, and Zach has obviously just done or said something to make her giggle and blush again. Puck's grip on the box tightens but he doesn't move away. When Rachel's laughter ceases, Zach's tone is a forced sort of casual that in no way disguises his seriousness as he says, "You two really did a number on each other."

There's no response and Puck can't see Rachel's face now that she's looking down and letting her hair curtain it off from (he assumes) both boys.

Zach leans back and lets out a breath. "I mean, Christ, I've been through high school. I've seen the best and worst of them fall apart at the seams and you guys pretty much take the cake."

Puck is confident he's figured out what this conversation is about and he finds himself stuck in place, morbidly fascinated by it.

Zach continues on, "I should kick his ass, Rach. He's my boy and all but you're my _girl_."

Holy _motherfucking_ shit. _Fuck!_

Puck's knuckles are white, his fingernails digging into the cardboard he's holding, and he is entirely incapable of thinking in anything other than curse words. When he's finally able to think in actual sentences again, he feels sick because _Zach_ is dating _Rachel_.

Zach is _dating_ Rachel.

Suddenly, Puck can't be there anymore. He doesn't want to be anywhere near the two of them. He mostly doesn't want to think about why he feels this way. He doesn't do feelings. At all. And, for fuck's sake, he _doesn't_ fucking feel _anything_ for Rachel fucking Berry except revulsion. She's such a ... crazy midget. (Seriously? _That's_ the best insult he can come up with?) He turns around and marches in the direction he came from, not caring about stealth or discretion or anything apart from getting the hell away from the two of them.

That night Puck gets drunk with the guys from high school, gets a blow job from a random Cheerio (Santana had vanished into a room with the new blonde import early on so that was off the table) while Finn is driving Quinn Fabray home way before regulation curfew, and then Puck throws up in the bushes behind Matt's house. He stumbles back inside and leans heavily against the dishwasher listening to people filter out the door. He winds up crashing in Matt's guestroom and missing his morning appointment with Mrs. Hilman (one of the three cougars that will actually have sex with him) and only makes it home at noon because Matt's big brother gives him a lift before he heads downtown.

In the shower, with nothing but white tile to distract him, Puck makes himself nauseous thinking about Zack kissing Rachel, Zach touching Rachel, Zach doing things to Rachel that Puck had only been allowed to imagine the summer before. Somewhere along the way, the 'Zach' in his head becomes 'Noah'. The fist he has pressed hard against the tile loosens and reforms around his hardened cock and he makes himself come with Rachel's name bitten off between his teeth.

Afterward, when he's leaning against the cold shower wall panting for breath, Puck knows he can't fucking do this. He's already got a sort of itch for Quinn and now that Finn is dating her, he can't be pining for _both_ his best friends' girls. He's a _stud_. He can have any girl he wants so those two? They can have their pansy-ass boyfriends.

This resolve doesn't stop him from making lewd, half-serious passes at Quinn while Finn's busy getting drinks at some party two nights later. And, God help him, it doesn't stop him from cornering Rachel in the corridor off the music room of the JCC eight days after that. (What the fuck is _wrong_ with him?)

He gets Rachel alone like this: The JCC has a monthly youth gathering thing—fuck if he knows or cares what the hell it's actually called—and, since he's their new senior lifeguard, Zach's mom calls his mom and gushes about _what an upstanding young man Noah is becoming_ and somehow he winds up being absolutely _obligated_ to attend. He expects it to totally suck ass. Surprisingly, it doesn't.

Apparently, those Kradman brothers from Carmel have more balls than he gave them credit for because they know where the JCC keeps its alcohol and aren't too chicken shit to steal it when some of the older kids sneak away from the room full of screaming elementary brats. It's Manischewitz, of course, but it's _alcohol_ so none of them are picky about the sickly sweet taste.

Exactly as Puck expects, Rachel isn't one of the ones who indulge in this little act of delinquency. She's stuck by her boyfriend's side all night, hanging about and making nice with all the kids Zach has to tolerate (she was even smiling at Ben-Israel at one point) and generally being the perfect candidate for Mrs. Junior Rabbi (Puck realizes at this point that he's watched way too much _Fiddler on the Roof_ if he thinks any of that shit matters in this day and age). Puck does his best to ignore her existence, just as she ignores his, and manages to snag an unfinished half bottle of wine for his own. He's nicely buzzed when he notices the skirt sneaking out the side door.

_Well, well,_ he thinks to himself, _where could she be going all by herself?_ Even in his head it sounds sarcastic because he very well _knows_ where she's headed and what he really wonders is what could possibly have driven her away from the "party". He actually finds it sad that maybe even the little kids didn't want to have anything to do with her. Between those thoughts, he's gotten to his feet and wandered off behind her, the bottle he'd been nursing now lying sideways and empty on the itchy carpet of the hallway by Josh Kradman's patent leather shoes.

He catches up to her on the second floor. She stops at the top of the stairs and turns to stare down her nose at him. He smirks to himself because she hasn't been able to look him in the eye since they were seven. Puck doesn't think about knowing her before last summer often but sometimes little observations like that slip in when he isn't paying attention. He walks up to her, stands on the step directly in front of her so that he's inappropriately close. She doesn't back away. Instead, she crosses her arms—don't think Puck doesn't notice what this does to her breasts—and glares up at him, obviously pissed at him taking away her vantage point.

There's a whole book of words he could say right now (it's called a 'dictionary') and a whole gamut of emotions he could express but none of them, not a single one, wins out. Puck's never been much of a talker, never been big on words in general (don't tell anyone but he's always preferred numbers), so it doesn't surprise him so much when he leads with an action instead. The action itself kind of shocks the shit out of him though.

Before Rachel knows what hit her, Noah's kissing her. He forces himself up to stand on the same level with her and then walks her backwards until she can feel the hallway's decorative chair rail digging into her back. The kiss tastes sweet; overly so and she recognizes the taste of Concord grape wine. She would push him away—she actually raises her hands to his chest to do just that—but Noah kisses her in a way no one else ever has (in a way, she suspects, no one else ever _will_) and it does something to her motor functions: shuts them down completely. Her hands clench around the fabric of his button down and stay there.

As for Puck, his mind is screaming a hundred different things at him at once. Honestly, this isn't—_wasn't_—his intention. When he got up to follow Rachel, he hadn't actually had any particular plan of action. All he knew was that there was this girl—this beautiful, crazy girl who drove him absolutely wild with her short skirts and huge words and fucking unbelievable ability to kiss, who made him want to set himself on fire with how much she confuses the shit out of him, who was dating his fucking_ hero_—who he had had first. Now he didn't have her anymore and, fuck it all sideways, he _wants_ her. (A part of him that he denies exists suggests that maybe he always has and never stopped, high school be damned.)

He wants her and she isn't denying him so he takes. His hand comes up to cup her cheek, to angle her head just that little bit, and he's as surprised as she is when she opens for him. He leans down without thought, without permission, and licks his lips and hers in a single swipe of his tongue. The taste of them, of her and him and alcohol and the forbidden all in one, makes him move forward. He can't remember when he managed to back her against the wall, but he still doesn't feel close enough. He wants Rachel wrapped around him, wants to feel as much of her as he can, wants her body pressed against his until there isn't space for light to pass through and then, maybe, he'll have enough to sate whatever it is that makes him follow her. He _followed_ her.

That thought is jarring but it isn't enough to make him stop kissing her. He doesn't think there's anything in the world that can make him stop kissing her. For some reason, that thought makes him kiss her even harder, even deeper, even _more_. Tilting her head back farther, he sucks on her swollen lower lip, now devoid of the watermelon gloss she was wearing, and tangles his fingertips in her hair. His heart is beating a ridiculous rhythm in chest and he's pressed so close to her that he can feel hers beating an unsteady, discordant staccato.

Eventually, he slows just enough for their kisses to turn languid and he stays there. Rachel is kissing him back, her whole body tucked neatly into the frame of his, she's so fucking _tiny_. Bit by bit, in the littlest increments, her hands unclench and move their way upward. When her fingers brush the skin of his neck, he moans. _Holy shit, what is this?_

That thought doesn't stop them either.

She finally gets her arms wrapped around his neck and pulls him closer. It offsets their balance though, so one of his hands comes away and he leans his forearm flat on the wall. The other buries itself further in her hair. It's comfortable and wonderful. Neither of them can do anything but stay there and kiss. For a moment, Puck thinks he should stop because this is the girl who left him for _glee club_, the total loser he personally torments every day, _Man-hands_. She thinks she should stop because, while this feels like Noah kissing her, it could just as easily be Puck playing a horrid,_ horrible_ trick on her (and she doesn't think she can walk away from this one in one piece if it is).

They still don't stop.

They're so wrapped up in their thoughts and the feel of each other that neither notices the sound of someone climbing the stairs. The hallway is dimly lit but is by no means dark so the person who finds them can clearly see what they're doing.

"Rachel?"

So, there is one thing in the world that can make him stop kissing her: her boyfriend.

Rachel wrenches away so abruptly, she's smashes Noah's hand between her head and the wall. He doesn't even seem to register the pain.

She looks at Zach, eyes wide and guilty, and Noah mutters a low, harsh, "Fuck."

Right. Her boyfriend. _Zach._

"Fuck," Puck repeats. He pushes himself away from the wall and thanks God, Moses and all the Angels that his buttons didn't catch in the lace of her dress. It's bad enough that he has to tug at her hair to get his left hand back. He thinks he hurts her when he yanks a little at the fine strands that just _cling_. It doesn't matter, he just needs to get as far away from her and her boyfriend (what kind of boyfriend just stands there and watches them disengage anyway? Fuck, Shapira, _react_!) as possible, as fast as possible.

Without looking at Rachel again (Puck isn't stupid, he's lucky to still be standing after what Zach just caught him doing), Puck mumbles something that sounds like _sorry_ and_ fuck this_ and _whatever_ all in one in Zach's general direction then heads the opposite way down the hall. When he turns the corner, he catches a glimpse of the two of them standing in the same places he left them. Zach hasn't moved any closer to Rachel, he's just watching Puck with some unreadable expression—it isn't anger, which totally confuses the hell out of Puck. Rachel (God, just thinking her name does things to his insides he'd rather not explore) is still backed up against the wall (is he supposed to find that as sexy as he does? He thinks it's because he put her there) with her head lowered and her tangled hair (now he knows it's normal to find _that_ sexy) shielding her face from the rest of the world. He almost feels bad for the shitstorm he knows he's just created for her and walked away from but _survival instinct_, you know. Fight or flight; he's not going to duke it out with Zach over Rachel.

_She's a loser_, he reminds himself.

_She didn't want you._

When his mom comes to pick him and Sarah up, Puck sees Zach hugging Rachel beside her fathers' black sedan. Girl gets away with _everything_.

(He finds long strands of brown hair tangled in his cuffs before bed and spends an hour just twining them around his fingers. Fuck off, he's _bored_.)

The next day, his mom is off work and lets him have the car since he has his driver's license now. _Awesome._ What he does with this freedom? _Not_ so awesome. The first thing he does is call Finn and ask him if he wants to joyride. Finn has plans with Quinn. Matt and Mike have some field trip-type thing they're doing with their break dance group (if you ask Puck, that's a little bit gay but whatever) so Puck has a car all to himself.

Zach, obviously, is out of the question because not only does the guy have his own pick-up truck (has had it since he turned sixteen, the lucky bastard) but Puck is sure he's the last person Zach wants to hear from today. He decides he'll just burn gas; drive around a bit with the volume up and the windows down, and then grab a slushie. He's on his way home with a cherry slushie in one hand when he realizes what street he's on. He slows for the turn and doesn't gun the engine past her house—that's the reason he sees her sitting by her window, he isn't looking for her. Nothing can explain what he does next.

He pulls up to her driveway, gets out and knocks on her door. Her father, the little white one (Adam), opens it. Last year, Puck had gotten to know the Berry men well enough. They're nothing special, just regular dudes who just so happened to like kissing other dudes. Puck is not homophobic. It just so happens that the only homo at McKinley is a loser. Puck's a bully, not a bigot.

Anyway, Adam Berry is, in a word, confused about Noah Puckerman's presence on his doorstep because Rachel had announced their break up to the household filled with righteous indignation over _Noah's utter lack of regard for her passions_ and a tremor in her voice that betrayed just how much she hadn't wanted the relationship to end. The slushie cup in Noah's hand puts the man on guard. Rachel may be a stellar actress but she's a terrible liar so her fathers figured out what was going on at McKinley pretty early on. They had tried to convince her to move to Carmel while it was still early in the year but she had been adamant about making McKinley work for her. So far, the only things 'working' for Rachel were Lima's numerous dry cleaners and the Berry washing machine.

"Mr. Puckerman, what can I do for you?" Adam asks. He doesn't open the door because there is no way he will allow some punk (not so _little_ anymore, what a year can do for a teenage boy!) with a mohawk (_that's_ new) to humiliate his child in her own home (he should respect Rachel more having dated her).

Noah shifts his weight a little then asks, "Is Rachel home?"

Adam gets the feeling Noah already knows that answer to this question. He studies the boy on his doorstep—the boy is taller than him now—and sees a distinct lack of malice. Lots of other things are going on behind that uncomfortable expression that Adam would like to decode but there's no intent to harm. He opens the door and lets Noah into the foyer before calling up the stairs for Rachel.

She's wearing something completely different from what Adam saw her in half hour ago. He looks at her pointedly and she blushes as she comes down the stairs. Through an awkward dance of silent conversation, the two teens step out onto the porch. Adam would spy, but he has a deposition he's supposed to be working on and he trusts Rachel.

Puck waits until he's sure they're definitely alone to clear his throat. "Look, Berry—"

"Oh."

_Wait, what?_ He's said _two_ words. Literally two words and she's already looking like he purposely ran over her puppy. "What?"

"It's ok, Noah, I understand."

_What?_ "Understand what?"

"Last night. You were...you were drunk. I don't really have an excuse for _my_ behaviour but you were drunk so it doesn't matter. I won't tell."

_What the fuck is she talking about?_ "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I understand why you're here, Noah. You have nothing to worry about. Zach has no reason to tell anyone what he saw and no one would _listen_ to me much less believe me if I told them so you needn't worry. Your reputation as McKinley's 'badass stud' is safe."

Puck would think the way she makes the finger quotes is cute if she wasn't spouting such utter _bullshit_.

"Hold on a freakin' minute! You _understand_ why I'm here? I haven't even said three words yet, Rachel," he doesn't get why _that_ makes her look him in the eye for the first time today, "and you've already had this whole conversation in your head."

He pauses because, unlike her, he needs oxygen to live and talk at the same time. She's staring at him like...like she doesn't have a boyfriend and she remembers what it was like to hang out in the back yard of this very house, laughing and listening to music and kissing when her dads weren't looking. Like she remembers what it felt like to be flush against each other last night without air between them, like she wouldn't mind doing it all again. _Get a grip, Puckerman, she's dating Zach._ He's probably just misinterpreting her pity for his doomed face. He's never been good at that.

The silence stretches between them until he breaks. He steps closer to her, not as close as he was last night but inappropriately close nonetheless, and whispers, "Come out with me, Rachel."

Her eyes snap up to meet his. She's as shocked as he is to hear those words come from his mouth. Puck hides his own surprise quickly. He's jumped; now all he can hope to do is land on his feet. He keeps his voice low and says, "I get that you have a thing for older guys, I get it. I'm a cougar-chaser myself. But you and me, we have fun. We _always_ have fun. Come out with me. Zach doesn't have to know."

_Shouldn't have said that_. She looks at him in confusion and takes a step back. _Damn it. _"What does Zach have to do with this?"

He shrugs. "Nothing."

"No," she insists, "it means something. You wouldn't have said it if it didn't matter, Noah. I know you."

He laughs. "Yeah, right, babe. You keep telling yourself that."

_Shit. Goddamn, Puckerman, this is not the way this is supposed to go!_ (He ignores the fact that none of this was ever supposed to happen because he was never supposed to stop here.)

She goes quiet, face tightening and then going blank and Puck braces himself for the blow. "If you've only come here to hurt me, Noah, please leave."

He doesn't even know why he was here in the first place. He turns to leave but stops on the first step down. He looks at her and warns, "He's not going to stay with you. He'll go back to college and meet someone he can fuck without getting arrested and you'll be stuck here in Lima with your show tunes and your glee club and my slushies on your face. Hope he's fucking worth it, Berry."

A tear rolls down her cheek and he takes off. He doesn't get home until it's dark and when his mom asks where he's been, _nowhere_ sounds like the most honest thing he's said in ages.

Puck doesn't see Rachel for the rest of summer. He avoids Zach as much as possible even though he's still working at the JCC and still has Mrs. Shapira convinced that he's becoming an exemplary young man. _(If she only knew.)_

Towards the end of summer around mid-August, Zach hunts him down. When Puck sees him coming, he stays put and resolves to face whatever Shapira is bringing like a man. Zach doesn't hit him. Somehow, Puck winds up sitting in Zach's truck drinking a cherry slushie again and waiting for the older boy to speak.

Finally, Zach says, "I should kick your ass, Puck."

"Yeah." What else is he supposed to say? He knows he's getting off easy here. "Yeah dude, you should."

Zach scrutinizes him and Puck refuses to show how uneasy the attention makes him. "Do you even know why I'm pissed at you?"

The response comes tumbling out of his mouth before Puck can stop it. "Christ, man, I kissed your girl! _Of course_ I fucking know why you wanna kick my ass."

The resulting bark of Zach's laughter is a surprise (Puck realizes he's spent way too much of this summer being surprised). Puck waits for Zach to get over whatever gave him the giggles. He's about to say more—he's not sure what, just _more_—but Zach cuts him off pre-emptively. "Puck—Noah—_dude_, Rach told me you were confused but seriously. _Seriously_, you thought I was dating Rachel?"

It doesn't sound rhetorical so Puck shrugs. Yeah, he did. Is it so hard to believe? He knows Zach has _seen_ Rachel.

"Oh my God, you are so stupid. What the fuck made you think that?"

Another shrug. Eventually, reluctantly, Puck admits, "You call her your girl all the time now."

Leaning his head back against the headrest, Zach exhales harshly. "Idiot. When I say Rach is my girl, it's the same as saying you're my boy. She's this tiny little chick and she's my friend so I look out for her. _That's_ why I want to kick your ass. Do you have any idea what you've been doing to her head?"

_OK, back-up a minute._ "What I've been doing to her head? She's the one who let me think you guys were dating!"

"If you'd let her actually talk every once in a while, she might have corrected you."

"It's _Rachel,_" Puck counters like it explains everything. In his head, it does. Rachel Berry never shuts up. Getting a word in edgewise takes the conversational ninja skills of a grand master or something.

"So?"

"All she ever does is talk."

Another bark of laughter. "She says she hasn't said twelve sentences to you this summer."

Knowing her, she probably counted them. Puck rolls his eyes. "It's not like we've spent that much time around each other. And we—we don't exactly talk about shit."

Zach slants his gaze in Puck's direction, "I know."

Puck feels himself _blushing._ There is nothing dignified about his life anymore. Besides which, "I didn't mean that, you friggin' perv."

Just like that, things are ok between them again. When Zach pulls up to the Puckerman driveway, he tells Puck, "Sort this shit out. Rach is...you've been screwing with her head all summer and she deserves better. Either step up or back off, Puck. You're my boy but she's my _girl_—she's _a_ girl—and I will kick your ass if I have to."

* * *

Puck isn't good with ultimatums. Given the choice of either/or, he goes for Option Three: Neither.

At the final party of the summer, Santana gets bored with her blonde plaything and is obviously in some fucked-up race with Quinn so when they're cooling off in a stranger's bedroom, she tells Puck that they're officially dating.

_Whatever. _From what Puck gathers of the arrangement, it means he's going to get hot sex on a regular basis. _Awesome._

(And if it saves him from thinking about dating that other girl, no one needs to know.)

School starts back and Rachel makes the mistake of looking at him once when he's kissing Santana (Puck makes the mistake of looking back) and Santana makes it her personal duty to make her miserable. One Monday, Santana makes him buy a slushie—grape—and reminds him that he hasn't tossed one in RuPaul's face yet for the year.

He does it. The hallways are crowded and people stop to point and laugh. Rachel cringes, blinks, and then heads for the bathroom. She doesn't look at him as she goes but _he's_ looking at her so he sees when her tongue flickers out to lick her lips.

He and Santana spend all lunch in an unused physics classroom on the second floor. Puck likes to use it sometimes because there isn't enough light to see clearly and Santana, for all her huge ego and bitchy personality, is just a small body in the dark.

Two weeks later, Finn joins Glee.

(It isn't over yet.)

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Basic Disclaimers:**

**1.** I don't own Glee.

**2.** I don't own "Howl" by Florence + The Machine.

**Notes: **

**1. **I know Puck isn't a saint. I know most of the time he's a total douche, especially in this story, but I also realize that he's very much a teenager so I let a lot of the crap he does slide. At times, I don't think I make him vile _enough. _

**2.** I shifted one thing in the timeline. Most people assume that Santana and Puck break up at the beginning of episode three but I figure they just broke up at some point earlier in the semester. Since we're never given an official date, I took the liberty of making it happen early.

**3.** I have to say thank you to each and every reviewer I've had. I know I'm the worst at replying (I generally don't) but I appreciate every single person who took the time to tell me what they thought. I you all!

**Warnings:** Teenage boys. Teenage girls. Rampant hormones, unintentional voyeurism, intentional cruelty. Spoilers for season 01, _everything._

******This Is Not Forever, Just Always**  
_If you could only see the beast you've made of me / I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free / Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart_

The third time Puck asks Rachel out, _Quinn_ gets pregnant. Yeah, he doesn't even know.

Life at McKinley goes pear-shaped when Finn joins glee without warning. One day the guy is belting out old rock standards in the locker room showers and the next, he's signing up for Homo Explosion. To add insult to injury, he actually tries to justify it. In Puck's mind, there is no justification for flinging yourself practically off McKinley's social ladder. Finn is the fucking _quarterback_; he's got everything including the head cheerleader and he just wanders into glee club one day? It's like something out of a creepy children's movie from the nineties.

It's also kind of grating because doesn't Hudson know what people would give to be him? Puck isn't jealous of Finn in that _Count of Monte Cristo_ (shut it, he reads) kind of way but he does think the guy is a fucking lucky bastard. And maybe, when Santana is being either particularly bitchy or particularly whorish, he thinks that it would probably be nice to have a girl like Quinn. Sure, she can be as much of a world class bitch as Santana but she's sweet when smiles and yeah, Puck can admit she looks like a freaking _angel._ She's gorgeous and everyone knows it. San's exotic and sexy as hell but there's something about Quinn—something pure and innocent and untouchable—that makes Puck's fingers twitch. He's always been a mischievous bastard, always the kid who had to touch something just because it was behind the rope and the lady said it wasn't allowed. Quinn's a lot like that.

Puck knows she's off-limits. It's not just because she's dating Finn (Finn's had other girlfriends before her and Puck hasn't ever even thought about touching them) but because she's _Quinn Fabray._ She's president of the Celibacy Club, star of McKinley's only good thing (Rachel isn't the only one with a thing for stars), the good all-American girl of your _dreams_. She's the girl that guys like him (guys whose fathers disappear in the dead of night instead of blazes of patriotic glory, guys who aren't expected to go anywhere no matter how well they do because that's just who everyone knows they _will be_) will never get. It pisses him off and attracts him all at once. He knows it's a ridiculous cliché but he's bent to the will of high school for the past year, why make a fuss now?

(It never crosses his mind that if he was going to put any effort into breaking the status quo, he might as well go after the girl he _actually_ dreams about... _not_ that he dreams about any girl in a way that isn't completely offensive.)

The other thing about Quinn, the thing that really gets Puck's attention, is the fact that she obviously _likes_ that he's so into her. She loves Finn (he's met her parents, they talk about their future sometimes, it's _real_) but that doesn't stop her from flirting back with Puck when she thinks it's harmless and even sometimes when it might not be. Of course, she shuts him down once things turn remotely serious (_promising_) but it doesn't negate the fact that she shoots him coy little looks when he winks at her and that she grins when she's supposed to be scandalized. None of it translates into a direct invitation but it's just enough encouragement to keep him a little bit (a lot) entranced.

In the weeks after Finn's sudden gander into the gay, a bunch of bad things happen one after the other. Puck thinks of it as some kind of fucked-up Lima edition of _Katamari Damacy_: one big, growing ball of bad karmic shit that just keeps getting bigger and bigger and swallowing up everything and everyone. Of course, Puck's the one driving it around town but it's Finn that sent it down to Earth in the first place so no one is safe and there's no escaping it. (It makes sense to him, alright!)

First, Puck and Santana break up over some shit Puck doesn't even _understand_. He's not sure how she got hold of his credit score in the first place and secondly, he _knows_ it isn't as shit as she says. She dumps him nine days after he tosses that grape slushie in Rachel's face and he can't do anything but stand and gape at Santana's back as she just strands him high and dry in the hallway. One time, just once while she's yammering away about _financial security_, he thinks, _Bitch, you have no idea what I gave up to fuck you._ He lets it slide because harping on it will give it meaning and he doesn't need that on top of all what's going on right in front of his face.

Secondly, when Finn decided to throw his lot in with Homo Explosion, he went fucking _soft_. Like, Puck always knew Finn wasn't entirely cool with tossing nerds in the dumpster since he was always holding Hummel's latest whatever while Puck did the heavy lifting. This worked fine; somebody had to play good cop. After the glee-wrought change becomes apparent, Puck is Finn's most vocal critic for two reasons: a) glee club is the bottom of the frickin' barrel and b) everyone _knows_ Finn listens to Puck. The other footballers and idiots like Karofsky all make their displeasure known but it's Puck who they expect will walk up to Finn and be all, "What the fuck, man?" They expect _results_.

But then Finn rains on Puck's parade because Puck's plan to tip Wheels in that port-a-potty? _Effin' genius_. Finn plays hero, of course. That's not what pisses Puck off though. He can live with Finn being Mr. Nice Guy, Puck's badass enough for both of them. And when he thinks about it, even he can see the amazing heights of douche-baggery that particular prank would have achieved (and Wheels was actually pretty damn ballsy for making that burn sign at the whole football team despite what they'd just threatened to do with him; Finn was big but it was the _whole_ team on the other side). What pisses Puck off is the speech Finn makes at him.

Finn babbles about a lot of shit that Puck doesn't listen to. Truth be told, he doesn't hear much beyond "loser". Whether or not Finn clumped himself in with all the other losers in Lima, all Puck registers is that his best friend in the state (Zach's up in NY; doesn't count) just called him a loser in front of the whole team. Finn fucking _knows _how he feels about that shit and he still does it. And, yeah, maybe it makes a point to the others but it lets Puck know that Finn just chose Glee.

The next day, Puck knows there's glee rehearsal and when he doesn't see anything going on in the choir room, he heads to the auditorium (_don't_ ask how he knows where to go). When he turns into the appropriate corridor, he sees his favourite Spanish teacher heading inside and he can hear a half-decent Journey song wafting out of the open doors. He approaches slowly and waits the few moments it takes for Mr. Schuester to move further into the room. Then he steps inside to get a look at what's happening on the stage.

It feels like a sucker punch.

He hasn't—not by any stretch of the imagination—forgotten that Rachel is in Glee. The thought of her and Finn coming in contact with each other simply never occurs to him at any point up until he sees it: Them, they're there, together, on stage. _Didn't see that one coming. _But he's not too bothered about it, he's seen Rachel sing with other guys. Hell, he spent half a summer strumming chords and listening to her belt it out with Zach and—

_Fuck no._

Rachel turns on her heel and leaps toward Finn with this fucking _huge_ smile on her face. Puck knows her stage smile (he watched her practice variations of it) and the one she's wearing is anything but staged. It resembles the way she beams whenever she sees Zach but there's something else, something more, something Puck recognizes because he used to call it his own once. She's looking at Finn like...Puck can't even put it in words in his head. He just _knows_ that look. (Not so long ago, he _owned_ that look.) Suddenly, Frankenteen is on the receiving end of it.

Puck clenches his fists then shoves them into the pockets of his jacket. His jaw is so tight it hurts but he stands there and keeps on watching them sing. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Coach Sylvester, Santana and Quinn spying from the shadows. He doesn't pay any attention to them. Rachel is busy bounding around the stage, weaving between gleeks and touching Finn in that way that would drive any guy crazy—all innocent, lingering moments of contact. It's how she flirts; it's the way she lets you know that it's okay for you to touch her if you want.

Maybe it's just a part of their routine or whatever but Finn takes the invitation, reaches out and touches her. Puck can't be certain but from where he's standing it looks like Finn's hand is pretty much cupping Rachel's boob. Rachel's reaction? A wider smile.

Puck turns around and leaves.

He's surly on the bus ride home. He sticks his headphones in her ears, ignores the other guys' conversation and tries to think about nothing (it's harder than you might imagine, even for him). At first he closes his eyes and concentrates on the lyrics DMX is spitting into his ears but that doesn't help. Unfortunately, closing his eyes turns the insides of his eyelids into screens replaying that damn performance on constant repeat. He opens them after a few seconds because all he can see is Rachel's wide brown eyes and that damn smile. God Almighty, none of this has _anything_ to do with his life anymore. He doesn't know why his brain insists on thinking about it.

That night, he stays home. There's a party at somebody's house and he would go but he can't seem to stop being angry long enough to work up any enthusiasm. One sure fire way not to get laid is to behave like an asshole _before_ the girl spreads her legs so Puck knows the night will be a bust. Besides, with the mood he's in, he's more inclined to go to Fight Club. His mom gets an emergency call from the hospital just as he's walking down the stairs and all his plans fly out the window. Somebody's got to watch Sarah and he hadn't mentioned any plans for the night so he _can't_ go anywhere even if he wanted to. It's a good excuse as any, he'll take it.

After he gets Sarah in bed, he heads to his room and can't sleep. He feels like some sort of chick-flick reject and is seriously contemplating beating the shit out of himself à la Edward Norton. It's not a realistic option tonight since he's babysitting (and therefore isn't allowed to die or whatever) so instead he lies in bed, the sheets warming under his weight, and just stops fighting himself.

_Fucking Finn._ The boy has _everything_ and now he takes the _one_ thing in the whole school that... That what? _Belongs to me_, Puck thinks before he can stop himself. Next he thinks: _She'd be so offended by that._

He groans out loud. This is not happening. Rachel is nothing to him. She isn't even a proper ex. She's a summer distraction that... _Just go to sleep, Puckerman._

(He winds up playing _Street Fighter 4_ on his PS3 until two in the morning and only switches it off when he hears the rusty rumble of the garage door opening.)

The next morning, he's armed with blueberry when he spots her having words with Quinn between her and Finn's lockers. He knows there's only one reason Quinn would deign to speak to Manhands directly which just serves to validate his suspicions about what's going in the glee club. Something is definitely going on between Finn and Rachel and the feelings Puck remembers from the first time he slushied her—all the resentment and anger—come back full force. It makes him nudge O'Connell, who's walking with him carrying a second slushie, and tilt his head in Rachel's direction. O'Connell's eyes go wide for a second then he nods. Puck doesn't usually ask people to help him slushie Rachel—Puck doesn't _let_ people help him slushie Rachel—but he's going to make an exception today. _She fucking deserves it._

He times it just right, slows his pace (O'Connell drops a step behind), and waits as Rachel takes a few backward steps away from Quinn. The minute she transfers her weight to the balls of her feet, he walks forward and _bam! _Full frontal hit. O'Connell follows his lead, gets her right in the face, and Puck high-fives him behind her back. He knows she can hear them laughing.

Quinn is hiding her laughter behind her hand but Puck knows she's enjoying this as much as he is. He catches her eye, grins and winks. She smiles at him like he's a hero. Quinn is gorgeous and perfect and popular and why in God's name would Finn risk the privilege of having all that beauty to himself? She throws her shoulders back, waves at him and turns down the hallway. He stares after her (thank heaven for that Cheerio skirt, man) and, for a moment, Puck forgets about the mess he's made behind him.

Later that day, he's in the nurse's office with his Applied Mathematics text book balanced on his lap (he's part of that dual enrolment program Lima Community College has going on with the local high schools so he can earn college credits; he likes it because it's all done online and no one but the school administration ever has to know) when the door opens. First thing he does is chuck the books under the bed and lie down. The pencil he had tucked behind his ear pops out and snacks him in the face, barely missing his eye. He catches it before it hits the ground. Then he rolls around a little bit to make the bed look like he's been using it for its original purpose and not as a conveniently curtained desk. Evening out his breathing, he pretends he's sleeping when his wildest fantasy starts coming true right there: the Cheerio squad files in one by one and starts stripping down to nothing on the other side of the privacy curtain. _Instant boner._

He's considering the best way to convince them to join him on his freshly repurposed bed when he hears his ex's voice. Santana is bitching about scales and diets and Puck suddenly realises that this whole situation is even better than he thought. Not only is the Cheerio squad practically naked within five feet of him but they're all feeling intensely vulnerable—or, at least, they will be as soon as they step off the scale. It's like a gift from God just walked into his life and Puck makes a mental note to go to Temple that weekend.

He listens for the sniffles and the sighs of relief. Cheerios that walk away from the scale happy are going to be the smuggest bitches in the world for the next week, at least. The confidence boost it gives them allows them to be picky about who they spread their legs for and while almost all of them would definitely say yes if Puck asked, he'd have to work for it, which would, of course, be a total waste of effort because the majority of the squad is walking off the scale crying. Tears equals desperation equals eagerness to please and Puck likes to be pleased.

Lying there, he tries to narrow his options down in his head. Santana is obviously out of the question because she literally hopped off the scale cackling. Puck rolls his eyes at this; she's going to be absolutely impossible to deal with for a while. Brittany is off the list of possibilities too—not because she's somehow managing to maintain the exact weight Sylvester requires, but because Santana is going to have her attached at the pinkie. There are a couple of Cheerios with boyfriends on the football team so Puck strikes those off his list because they have the whole season ahead of them and they already suck badly enough as it is. Adding internal conflict is just begging for outright humiliation. In the end, he still winds up with pretty decent pickings.

He's busy deciding whether he wants a blonde or a brunette when he realizes Quinn is the last Cheerio left in the room with him. He listens as she climbs onto the scale; her feet making the old metal shift and groan a little in the silence. The nurse, old sweetheart that she is, makes a couple of adjustments and then makes a sympathetic little noise. Quinn's silhouette slumps downward and Puck hears a choked sob. Before he can think too much about what he's doing, he's already stood up and stretched a bit. His yawn is real as he pushes the curtains aside. Across the room, Quinn looks up and they make eye contact.

Astonishingly, she's the one who looks away first. She lowers her head and sniffles a little louder. For a second, it looks like her whole body just curls in on itself. Puck thinks she's never looked more vulnerable or more real. Oddly enough, he thinks it makes her _absolutely fucking beautiful._ He stands there staring at the crown of her head for a little while longer before turning around and grabbing his stuff from under the bed (he surreptitiously shoves his math books into his bag). As he's walking out, he passes right by where Quinn is sitting and he can't help himself. He stops in front of her, waits until she looks up at him with dried eyes and a scowl, and tells her softly, sincerely, "You're not fat."

The scowl disappears and her cheeks go prettily pink almost instantly. She looks up at him with gratitude and a little bit of that something else that always, _always_ draws him in. He smirks at her a little and she giggles, he winks at her and her giggle turns into a laugh. She starts shaking her head and pushes herself to her feet. Puck hasn't stepped back yet so the whole front of her brushes against the whole front of him. They both freeze there and stare at each other.

Puck can't help it when, surrounded by the smell of her apricot shampoo, his eyes flicker to her lips. She licks them in response and it's like a universally understood invitation. It's an invitation Puck can't imagine passing up because this is Quinn Fabray and he's wanted to kiss her since the moment he saw her shifting nervously on the edge of the football field at the beginning of freshman year. He leans in the smallest fraction; the arm holding his bag in place on his shoulder brushes against her skin and she gasps. He swoops forward just as she steps sideways. It takes both of them all their athletic grace not to stumble around awkwardly.

He blinks then turns to look at her. She looks horrified and, well, fuck if he's going stick around to be on the receiving end of that. Hoisting his bag higher up his shoulder, he nods at her and moves to leave. His hand is on the door handle when she speaks.

"Thanks, Puck." She sounds a little sorry and he can't even blame her for dodging because she's _Quinn_ and she's dating Finn, his _best friend._ She was never ever a possibility.

He shrugs. "Whatever, Q. You know you're not fat."

Then he leaves before she smiles again and he gets them both in trouble.

Turns out, he can run from Trouble, but it'll always find him and the more he runs, the worse it will inevitably beat him to the ground. It catches up with him later that afternoon.

After leaving Quinn in the nurse's office, Puck snuck his way into the stacks and found a corner so out of the way he doubted the librarian even knew it was there. He finished up what was left of his Math assignment and then read his English text until the bell rang. (Tell _no one_ but his GPA? Seventh highest in the school.) Football practice goes as usual, except for the fact that Finn isn't there. While it isn't out of character for a player to miss practice on occasion, Finn is the quarterback. Plus Quinn is over on the other side of field with the Cheerios, working them like a slave driver building a pyramid on deadline during a brick shortage. Obviously, everyone _knows_ where Finn has disappeared to; McKinley is better than _E!_ at spreading gossip.

Puck makes a point to pass by the choir room afterward so he can maybe catch Finn and talk some sense into the friendly giant. Puck gets that Finn means well, that his intentions are all noble and shit, but high school is not the place to try that. Things will get complicated. Even if the guy just likes singing and dancing, if the rumours that he's a big fucking fairy don't end him, then the rumour about him trying to play the head Cheerio (and cheating with the biggest loser in the school) definitely will. Puck's busy working out the best way to explain why these rumours are bad things to his admittedly dim-witted friend when he realises the doors to the auditorium are ajar. _Of course_ he's not prepared to walk face-first into total validation of the latter rumour but that's what he does because when does he ever plan shit?

The setting screams _Rachel_. She likes this indoor picnic thing—Puck knows because she had set one up for one of their dates (middle of a hot August day, her living room floor, her fathers in the backyard, his lips on hers whenever he wanted). That's all he really makes of the environment because his attention is immediately focused on the two people on stage.

Feeling numb isn't supposed to hurt. Puck thinks something's got to be wrong with him because he thinks he feels numb but there's this sort of wrenching, twisting, tugging, piercing _ache_ in his chest. He's so confused by it that he can't even bring himself to look away. Finn's gangly form is impossible to mistake and the petite brunette could be anybody but really, what's the point of lying to himself now? Rachel Berry is there, shifting onto her back, lying tense beneath Hudson, one hand clutching at the fabric of the absolutely _fugly_ shirt he's wearing today. She looks nervous but it's blatantly obvious that she's willing and Finn is fucking _eager._ They move slowly, her body lowering by degrees to the cushions she has artfully spread out around them, until finally, she's on her back, knees bent and slightly parted for Finn, who's hovering tensely above her.

Recently, as in: since walking in on the gleeks singing _Don't Stop Believing_, Puck has made a conscious effort not to think about Rachel. His concern has been solely for Finn. Finn is his best friend and he loves the dude like a brother. They've been through a lot of stupid and serious shit together and they're tight. Honestly, if asked Puck to name the one person outside of his family he couldn't live without, his first thought would always be Finn. No homo. He's one of three people on Puck's list of "People I Would Probably Give Up My Life For (if they really, _really_ needed it)". And up to five minutes ago Puck probably would have jumped in front of a bus to save Finn if the big dimwit needed it.

Now though, as Finn slowly lowers his lips to Rachel's, all Puck wants to do is push the motherfucker under a bus himself. For a moment, the fantasy of watching some large automobile smash Hudson's bones to dust distracts Puck just long enough for him to miss most of their actual kiss. He doesn't remember when Rachel moved her leg so Finn could fit himself between her thighs. Now though, Puck's paying attention again and even from a distance he can sees Finn's body jerk awkwardly against Rachel's. The thought of the two of them literally bumping uglies (that whole _Push It_ fiasco? Completely blocked. That shit was borderline scarring) has Puck moving forward even as Finn jumps to his feet. A second passes in which Puck thinks he's been spotted and Finn is about to _deny, deny, deny._ This isn't the case.

The auditorium is silent so there's nothing to mask the sound of Finn begging Rachel not to tell anyone about them. Finn spins around and disappears backstage. Rachel literally crumbles. Puck remains in place, unmoving, until he hears a door slam shut in the distance. At the sound, Rachel's whole body is wracked with a harsh sob. Puck watches her cry and vindictively thinks, _Serves you right for kissing him._

Then she's just sitting there abandoned and sobbing and he can't help what he does next. Later he'll try to convince himself that he did it to prevent Zach from kicking his ass when he found out that Puck had seen all this and done nothing. Rachel was _their girl_ (although in very different ways) and he couldn't just leave her there like that. (He'll try to convince himself but he'll fail; even he's not stupid enough to buy that.)

He doesn't make any effort to conceal his presence as he makes his way toward the stage. She's still crying into her hands when he stops at the edge of her makeshift picnic but he knows she knows he's there. He knows she knows it's _him._

"Stop crying," he demands. His voice is rough and the anger he feels as he speaks to her is entirely unexpected. He knows he's pissed at Finn. He didn't realise how angry he was at her, how hurt. (Yeah, he wants to kick himself for ever thinking that.)

She sniffles and finally looks up at him. She looks utterly devastated. Her eyes are swollen, her nose is red and she looks generally puffy. On her there's nothing beautiful about tears and heartache. Nothing about her vulnerability makes him feel like he can finally touch her (he's never really felt like he couldn't; he just chooses not to). Seeing her like that, all small and helpless and hurt, only makes him want her to _stop._ She's not that girl—she's not the damsel in distress.

It's startlingly, jarringly different from Quinn.

"Noah."

There's more to say. He knows it and she knows it but neither of them will do anything about it because he's just seen her do the worst thing she's ever done in her life (and this includes getting Sandy Ryerson fired—the man was a menace) and she's ashamed. He can see it all over her, the shame and the guilt, and he wonders for a moment when he started channelling his mother.

"Noah." She takes a big gulp of air, searches his eyes for a sign of pity or something then looks down at her hands when she doesn't find it. She opens her mouth to finish her sentence but all that comes out is another sob. When she says his name again, it's physically wrenches him toward her. "Noah."

This has to _stop_. She just sobbed his name and he _hated_ it. Rachel is a lot of things but broken is not one of them. Somehow he doesn't feel responsible for dropping to his knees beside her. He isn't the one telling his arms to hold her. His mouth is out of control and the kisses he's pressing against her hair are in no way his choice. His body is betraying him and he can't do anything to stop it.

"Noah," she cries again. It sounds like some hybrid of a plea and a whimper so he tightens his hold on her. She still fits into him like no one else. Even at this odd angle, she's easy to hold. He can't explain why or how but their bodies just _work_ together and it's both thrilling and terrifying because what's happening right now? Completely abnormal. They're in _school_ and he's sitting _on stage_ with her tucked snugly into him and he's kissing her hair and her forehead and her cheeks and her eyelids and her nose and...

She blinks up at him when he stops. He stares at her, takes in all the ugly pain painted across her face then leans forward just enough to rest his forehead against hers. The small shift of his body alerts him to the fact that her hands are back at their favourite resting place: she's clenched her fists in the fabric over his heart and he thinks if he was more left-brained, he'd find significance in that.

"You look fucking awful," he blurts out. That's not what he wanted to say at all. He cringes the second he's formed the last syllable. They're so close he can't help but notice the subtle tightening of her mouth. She's going to cry again and this time it's going to be his fault. It's not, not really, but he won't let it happen anyway. Before she can make any sort of sound, he leans forward and does what he always wants to do when he's around her: he kisses her.

She lets him.

She squeaks. It's cute. He kisses her harder for it. There's a brief period where she does some scrambling. Her hands are all over him, she's half trying to push him away, half trying to pull him closer. Finally, she relaxes when he runs his palm up her spine to settle the hand in the hair above her neck. He tugs her around so she facing him—it takes a bit of manoeuvring and their kiss breaks into harsh breaths as he repositions her. He watches her skirt as she shifts. It's teeny and pleated and riding indecently high on her thighs. He loves it.

She winds up kneeling in front of him because she's too short if she sits flat while he's still on his knees. She still has to look up at him and she can't begin to describe the way he's looking at her. Well, at her legs. Normally, she would be offended but she's not thinking like herself. Finn has just outright rejected her (she's not proud of having offered) but this is _Noah._ Noah: who looks at her makes her feel wanted; who kisses her and makes her feel beautiful. Noah, who, for all he puts her though, makes her feel things no one else can.

This is Noah who makes her feel like Rachel is enough.

He can't begin to guess at what she's thinking as her expression changes. All he knows is that this look—this particular softness in her eyes and this subtle upturn of her lips—is something he was never wants anyone else to see. She doesn't leave him much time to ponder it though. For the first time since she ended them, _she_ kisses _him_.

She uses her grip on his shirt for leverage and leans up to press her lips to his. Unlike his kisses, hers start softly. She spends long minutes practically sipping at him until he can't stand it anymore. When a growl of frustration finally escapes the back of his throat, she pulls back. Puck honestly doesn't believe she knows what she looks like when she licks her lips because the thought of her knowingly wielding that much power over him is totally frightening. _No wonder Finn couldn't resist,_ he thinks. Then he scowls and she jumps. He keeps her tight to him rather easily. Then he leans in and picks up where she left off.

He doesn't sip and tease—he isn't even particularly gentle with his mouth—he just needs to have her, to _claim_ her in some indisputable manner. Again, she lets him. Rachel opens her mouth for him and he very nearly comes in his pants. Controlling himself with a will of iron, he doesn't hesitate to take what she's offering. He knows Finn didn't kiss her like this. _But_, some annoying part of him points out, _Finn got between her legs._

His next actions don't even warrant consideration. He simply shifts their combined weight and lowers her to the cushions. They're still kissing. Eventually they have to break it off because the arm supporting his weight is pulling at her hair. He leans back, bracing his weight on one hand by her waist as the other strokes the skin just under the hem of her shirt. She sits up a bit and gathers her messy strands together before tossing them out behind her head as she lies back down. Puck likes her hair like that: spread like a fan, out of their way but still there for him to enjoy. When she's settled, he wastes no time reclaiming her mouth.

It occurs to him how different this is from what they did in the JCC corridor two months ago. Unlike that time where they were content to just meld mouths and fully-clothed bodies, these kisses are building toward something. Puck knows where this could lead if she doesn't stop him. He can't—and won't—stop himself. He wants this. _Badly._

The hand he had stationed at her cheek moves down her body, tracing her curves and brushing the side of her breast on its downward path. He stops it when he feels the delicate curvature of her knee bone and lets his fingers stroke back and forth along the outside of the joint. Finally, her leg twitches and he slides his hand forward to grip it firmly and pull upward. Her limbs follow his lead effortlessly, easily allowing him to settle himself between her thighs. Then they go still. They lie there, pressed intimately together, and stare at each other.

Puck can feel the heat of her through his jeans. He knows she can feel how hard he is for her.

"Rachel," he whispers (unintentionally).

She doesn't answer him. Instead, she cups his cheek in her hand and waits as he plants kisses along the line of her jaw. After a beat without him saying anything else, she shifts her hips. She has to bite her lip to stifle the sound she wants to make and Noah? Noah groans low and guttural and drops his head into the crook of her neck. His resultant immobility makes her worry that she might have done something wrong. He proves her wrong immediately by pressing his lips to the skin of her throat and thrusting his hips into hers.

Puck can't believe what she's allowing him to do to her out in the open, right there on the fucking stage. He can't even remember whether or not he closed the auditorium door behind him when he walked in. All he registers at the moment is the incredible sensation of being between Rachel's legs. He builds a steady rhythm that she matches and this act of pseudo-sex is quickly driving him toward one of the fastest orgasms of his life. He refuses to have this end like that so he slows them down until they are only making the smallest, subtlest rocking motions against each other.

Looking down at Rachel's flushed face, he thinks he's found the words they need. He kisses her gently then turns so his lips brush her ear as he speaks (he's not innocent and he's willing to use every trick he knows on Rachel if it means he'll get what he wants. What he wants is _Rachel, _all of her, all for his own).

"Tell me you want this," he demands. Then, his body runs ahead of his brain again and his mouth forms the words, "Tell me you want us."

He feels her body tense beneath his and watches her eyes blink to sharp awareness.

"What?" she breathes.

He figures he's already said it. "This, Rach. _Us._ We feel so fucking good, babe. You can't tell me you don't want it."

He rocks his hips just a little harder for emphasis. Her whole body jerks at sudden the contact and she gasps loudly.

"You want me," he insists with a smirk. "You want _me_, not Finn. You want _me._"

Her eyes go wide and everything about her face tells him he just said something _really fucking wrong._ She pushes at his torso and scrambles out from under him. He lets her up, of course, but that doesn't mean he understands what her problem is. He looks away from the distraction that is a flash of her dark pink panties and grinds out his confusion:

"What the hell, Berry?"

She walks briskly over to the side of the stage and grabs her bag from in the wings with trembling hands. When she turns to look at him, she looks as angry as he feels. (He can't bring himself to admit that she has more right to it than he does.)

"I don't know what this was, Noah, but I don't want you. You have proven over and over again that you want nothing to do with me—in point of fact you prefer to humiliate me on a regular basis—and I... I've found someone worthy of my admiration. At least he is willing to stand up to his peers."

She turns on her heel and is about the exit stage left when he calls out, "So that's it? You're into Finn _fucking _Hudson now, with his Cheerio girlfriend and all? You'll never get him, Berry. Try it and Q will _ruin_ you. You'll be worse than nothing here if you go after Finn."

He doesn't even bother to appreciate to flare of her skirt as she spins back around to face him, he's that furious.

"You're just jealous," she spits. "You're jealous of Finn because he's the team captain. You're jealous because people actually _like_ him. You're jealous because he's braver than you will ever be and you're jealous because he has—"

Despite the abrupt stop, they both hear the final, unsaid word loud and clear: _me._

It hurts him more deeply than he'll ever confess that she would take all of the things she knows about him and fling them in his face like that. He knows he can't refute the things he stupidly told her about himself but he can fix the one superlative mistake he's made all of today. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks toward her. She coils in on herself a bit and he scowls because there's still a part of him that's offended by the thought of her being physically scared of him.

Coming to a stop directly beside her, he leans over and sneers across her cheek, "Don't be so conceited, Berry. I just wanna do you 'cause you're passably hot. Don't go thinking you're special. It'd be cool if I could let the boys know I gave you a facial that didn't involve a slushie but honestly? I'd rather no one _ever_ knew. Finn might be dumb but at least he got that one right before me."

Then he straightens up and walks away.

As he reaches for the handle of the same door he assumes Finn used to escape, he ignores any and all sounds coming from behind him. What does he care?

His façade of cool indifference lasts as far as the opposite end of the school parking lot. He rounds the corner heading toward the football field then swings his fist suddenly and splits his knuckles open on the wall of exposed brick. _Fuck!_

Finn has Quinn, what the fuck does he want with Rachel too? Puck keeps asking himself this over and over and can't come up with any sort of reasonable answer. This whole mess is Finn's fault and the 'I'm-an-idiot' excuse can only cover so much. If Finn had only stuck to hanging with his regular friends, playing his normal sports and kept his attention on his _own fucking girlfriend_ none of the shit that just went down would have had the chance to happen.

There's a part of Puck that knows he should blame Rachel too but he can't.

He's in a mood straight out of a Shakespearian tragedy for the rest of the night. His mother takes one look at him and tells him he can grab his dinner from the kitchen whenever he wants. She and Sarah settle at the dining room table to work on some solar system project (Pluto _is_ a freaking planet, just saying) and they give him space. If he wasn't so pissed, he'd acknowledge the fact that he really loves his family at these times.

When Mike calls him up around six and says a bunch of footballers are headed over to hang out at O'Connell's, BYOB, he doesn't think twice about grabbing his jacket and heading out the door. His mom calls after him to be safe and he waves noncommittally over his shoulder. The gas station cashier is a little too shrewd for him to buy straight beer off of but he somehow manages to convince her that he's picking up the wine coolers for a family thing. He gets two cases and heads to the party.

Within an hour, he's chugged a whole case by himself. He's buzzed enough to not question too much why O'Connell is being oddly generous toward him and plying him with truly quality whiskey from the drinks cabinet. He vaguely registers some mutterings about the epic opportunity to slushie Berry. _Rachel. Shit._ He makes a shot of whatever's left in his glass and is wandering aimlessly in search of O'Connell's cabinet of tricks when he sees Quinn looking pissed _beyond_ in a corner. His feet veer off course and he finds himself offering her a wine cooler (who knew he was still holding onto those?) and a suggestive smirk. She rolls her eyes at him but takes the alcohol. She's queen of the Celibacy Club but she's got no illusions of Prohibition.

Puck feels a bit stupid just standing there watching her drink so he pops a bottle open and leans against the wall beside her. Maybe he's too close, his depth perception isn't exactly top notch at the moment (Good God, he's got to find out what O'Connell was serving tomorrow). It takes him a minute to realize that she's there on her own.

"Where's the fuck is Finn?" He's proud his words don't slur together. His alcohol tolerance is steadily increasing.

Quinn's mellow is totally harshed by the mention of her boyfriend. She practically growls out, "Probably screwing Manhands because she weighs less than a hundred and ten pounds."

The whiskey is obviously kicking in because Puck doesn't _feel_ angry. He just looks at this gorgeous, enraged cheerleader in front of him and thinks, _Hey, this is my chance._

"You're not fat and Finn's a fucking retard if he doesn't want you."

The honesty in his voice surprises her. All Puck wonders is where these words were six hours ago. She smiles at him, that smile that he knows will get them in trouble one day, and takes a long drink from her bottle.

Half an hour later Puck doesn't know what he said to get himself into her bedroom (he remembers something about her not being fat and her being so fucking special and something about how much he's always wanted to kiss her) but they're lying on her bed and she's letting him rub himself lewdly against the outside of her leg. She stops him more than once to ask (important but annoying) questions about his feelings and then about birth control and he's so gone that he just says, _"Trust me,"_ because Quinn pretty much admitted he was legit getting to pop her cherry.

It's not as great as he thought it would be. Quinn looks spectacular naked but there's this disconnected part of his brain that thinks she's too tall, too blonde and it hates the way she doesn't know what to do with her hair once it's out of Sylvester's severe regulation ponytail. Her eyes aren't big enough, they're too light, and he just wants to be fucking Rachel instead.

_But Rachel wants Finn_, he thinks.

When he comes inside Quinn, he feels generally victorious because Finn, _the girlfriend-stealing bastard_, can suck it.

* * *

Five weeks later, Finn is acting all weird and Quinn hasn't spoken to him directly since the morning after when she told him to never mention what had happened to _anyone, ever _or even the baby Jesus wouldn't be able to save his sorry ass. He didn't care, just shrugged and left (because he really didn't want to stand there and think about saying pretty much the same thing to someone else the day before).

In the break between second and third periods, he sees Finn holding a crying Quinn by her locker and he wonders what's up in an off-handed way. When he finally manages to catch up to Finn, his life changes in a single mumbled sentence.

_Quinn's pregnant._

Fuck his life, Puck joins Glee the next week.

**TBC**


End file.
